


Fire Coral

by taylor_tut



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Pain, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 16:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10723116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A prompt from my tumblr: Lance steps on the space equivalent of fire coral.





	Fire Coral

“Lance, can you please stay away from the shore? You’re freaking me out. I don’t want you to touch that water; we don’t know what’s in there,” Shiro begged for not the first time since they’d arrived on this planet. Not that anyone could blame him–the hot sun and the fine sand and the blue water were so beachy that it was unbelievable. Even the atmosphere was breathable. After their mission, the paladins had decided to remain here on the beach while they ate lunch.

“I’m sorry!” Lance apologized, not taking his eyes off the water for even a second. He reluctantly pulled himself back to the group.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Hunk sighed.

“Yeah,” Lance agreed dreamily. “My mom used to take us to a beach in Cuba every summer,” he smiled. “I’d build sand castles with mis hermanitas and surf all day. It’s one of my favorite memories about Earth.”

“You can surf?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, can you?”

“I’ve always wanted to try,” Keith admitted. 

“If I had a board here, I’d teach you.”

“Hey, Lance,” Pidge called, “I bet I can build a better sand castle than you.”

“What?! You are _so_  on,” Lance laughed. “Shiro’s on my team!” 

“We never said we were picking teams! I call Hunk!” Pidge shouted.

“Keith, I guess you’re with us,” Lance smirked. “Prepare to eat our sand, losers,” Lance teased, sticking his tongue out at Pidge, who was already drawing up what looked like elaborate blueprints in the sand.

“Allura is going to think we died if we don’t get back soon,” Shiro muttered, but Lance and Keith were already arguing.

“No, Keith, it has to have a moat.”

“Moats are so old school,” Keith asserted, “a guard robot would be so much more modern.”

“It’s a _sand castle_ ,” Lance sputtered, “How the hell are we going to build a sand robot?”

“You just watch,” Keith resolved, sitting on the ground and beginning his craft.

“While you do that, I’m going to get water for the moat that our castle is _totally having_ ,” Lance chirped, sprinting out into the water with a bucket in hand.

“Lance, be careful,” Shiro called, “Don’t touch the water, please? You’re barefoot.” Lance was already in to his knees. 

Pidge looked up from her construction of her castle to find Lance in the water, scooping up a bucket full of it and sprinting back to pour it into the hole he’d dug. She smiled.

“Look at that big, dumb idiot,” she grumbled affectionately, and Hunk nodded. 

“You did that big, dumb idiot a big favor with this castle contest,” he said. “I think looking at the water made him really miss his siblings.”

“Pidge!” Lance called from the water, “Look at this!” He was holding up a small crab-like creature with too many legs and long eye stalks. 

“Don’t just pick up stuff you find!” she shouted. “…But bring that here, I want to look at it.”

Lance started to run toward her, but his foot caught on something, and he cried out in pain. She thought he’d stepped on a rock, at first, and decided to let him walk it off, but by the time he got to the shore, Shiro had noticed something she hadn’t.

“Lance, are you limping?” he asked. 

Lance laughed nervously. “Yeah, I stepped on a coral thing,” he informed casually. “Cut my foot a little. It’s not so bad.” Shiro didn’t look convinced, but Lance seemed okay, so he allowed it to slide as the blue paladin sat down in the sand next to Keith and began working.

Not ten minutes had gone by when Lance’s posture shot upright and rigid in pure, sudden agony.

“Lance?!” Keith reeled, startled by the scream, “What’s wrong?”

“My _foot_ ,” he strained through gritted teeth, “oh _god_ , it’s like _fire_.” His back was arched in extreme pain, and he’d broken out in a sweat.

“Let me see it,” Shiro commanded, taking Lance’s foot gently. Lance didn’t even react to Shiro’s manhandling or prodding, which was worrisome–the pain was severe enough that he couldn’t feel a difference when Shiro poked at the foot. The sight was ghastly. From his toes to halfway up his calf, Lance had angry, red, raised bumps on his skin.

“What did you step on?” Keith demanded, but Lance was not responsive. Blindly, he reached out and grabbed the edge of Keith’s white tee shirt, balling the fabric up in his fists. Keith didn’t know what to do, so he just leaned in closer to allow his friend to grip the fabric. It was clearly something he needed.

“What happened?” Hunk and Pidge were suddenly alerted to the commotion and by Lance’s side in a heartbeat, contest forgotten.

“He stepped on a coral,” Shiro informed, “He’s got a rash.” Lance suddenly released Keith’s shirt and turned over to his side. 

“Lance, lie flat,” Keith tried to move him back, but suddenly he realized why he’d moved in the first place–he started to dry heave into the sand. Hunk helped him into a seated position and set the bucket underneath his mouth, rubbing Lance’s back while he heaved into it.

“It _hurts_ ,” Lance managed to grit out between bouts of vomiting. He looked terrible. His face was tense with pain, and the vomiting had left him white as a sheet. The muscles of his abdomen were taught with the need to purge whatever toxin was coursing through his system, and his breathing was still hitching as if he might vomit again. 

“I read somewhere that you’re supposed to… uh, for jellyfish stings, that if you… to relieve the pain, one can…”

“Are you suggesting peeing on Lance?” Pidge cut in, and Keith’s face flushed bright red. 

“Well, I mean, not me specifically,” he stammered. 

“That’s gross,” Pidge turned her nose up, “And a myth. But I’ll tell him you offered when he comes around,” she teased. 

“I heard it,” Lance said, his voice tinged with pain. “Kinky,” was all he could manage in the territory of making fun of Keith, and that was at least a small blessing from the situation.

“We need to get him into the water,” Hunk instructed. “It’s the only thing that’ll ease the pain.”

Shiro and Keith each took one of Lance’s arms and hoisted him up, with Pidge following behind them holding the injured leg off the ground. Hunk trailed close behind with the bucket ready.

Keith sat on the shore while Shiro eased Lance down into his lap, since he clearly couldn’t hold himself upright and if he were to lie down, the tide would drown him. Pidge situated Lance’s foot into the water and sat beside it, eyes watchful and hands ready for any floating debris that came drifting toward it.

“Pidge is the legendary defender of my foot,” Lance smiled. The salt water seemed to have brought the pain down to a bearable level, though Keith had yet to feel him relax. He groaned once more, doubling forward. Hunk reacted fast with the bucket, getting it under Lance’s face just in time for him to throw up again.

Keith winced against the harsh retching of the blue paladin in his lap, puling a face when it sounded particularly bad.

“You’d _better_  remember me cradling you in my arms this time,” Keith warned.

“As long as you don’t pee on me,” Lance huffed when he was finally able to catch a breath. 

“Not _that_  would be a bonding moment,” Hunk chipped in.


End file.
